


Twenty-Five Years

by Not Applicable (not_applicable)



Series: A Silver Anniversary [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Bearding, Bot Feels, Don't Ask Don't Tell, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Grooming, Interracial Relationship, Iron Man 3 Spoilers, M/M, Monogamy, Rhodey Feels, Romance, Secret Relationship, Secrets, Sleepy Sex, Tony Feels, from here I can see the watertower
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-13
Updated: 2013-07-13
Packaged: 2017-12-19 06:58:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/880794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/not_applicable/pseuds/Not%20Applicable
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nobody knows how long this has actually been going on.  <i>(Tony Stark has pretty much been in a monogamous relationship since he was 18 years old.)</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Twenty-Five Years

**Author's Note:**

> A note about the age of consent: The age of consent in the state of Massachusetts is 16, but just to be safe and sure that anyone in any state in the US can read this, we're hand-waving that information and establishing it at 18. Also, this is not tagged underage because there is only underage kissing.
> 
> Also, it's worth noting that the MCU has never established Tony and Rhodey's actual age gap, the only definite thing being that Rhodey is older. So I settled on three years since RDJ and Cheadle (or Howard - whoever your personal Rhodey might be) really don't look any older than the other. And I'm not sure why, but my grooming kink came out a bit in this one. Gently revised on 9/6/13.

* * *

  

 

 

 

 

 

(Tony Stark has pretty much been in a monogamous relationship since he was 18 years old.)

 

* * *

 

Tony Stark was 14 years old when Jim Rhodes met him. Jim was 17 and they were paired up in robotics lab. Tony always tried to get him to come over for beers after lab but Jim always resisted – the kid was so _young_. But Jim finally gave in and drank with Tony on the day they aced a demonstration, and they went to Tony's dorm and he asked Jim all about himself, wanted to know his mother's name and what she did for a living, wanted to know what Jim's younger sister intended to do for college and if Jim had ever visited the medical museum in west Philly. The questions were odd and plentiful, and Jim answered all of them.

They both felt loose from the alcohol and were ready to get into more hijinks. “Come on, Stark,” Jim said, and he could tell that he was slowly getting over his problem with partying with someone so young. “Call your buddies, let's get into some shit.”

Tony just grinned in a manner that was far too adult as he put on his jacket. “You're it, Rhodes,” Tony said, his keys jingling in his hands as he headed for the door. “Show me a good time.”

 

Not _that_ kind of a good time, but Tony sure did try. Jim had heard of Tony's exploits and he was glad to know that there hadn't been many, as the kid was only 14 and not even shaving yet. Seemed to be a lot of drunken makeout sessions with other precocious teenagers that had been admitted to MIT early, so Jim indulged him the first time. He laid on his dorm room bed with Tony and kissed him deeply, mouths open and hands locked together (to prevent the kid from getting too ambitious). They were both minors so they weren't breaking any laws, but Jim thought he was probably disappointing his mother by kissing someone so young.

“We probably shouldn't do that again,” Jim said, but for some stupid reason he reached up and held Tony's face with both hands. Tony let out a laugh so youthful that it made Jim's flesh crawl, but _goddamn_ if Tony didn't have the smoothest face he'd ever touched.

“Shut up, Rhodey,” Tony said, laughing for some reason, and Rhodey didn't even think about it when he leaned over and kissed Tony again, quick and light, on the lips.  _Rhodey_.  After that, Tony rarely called him anything else.

 

* * *

 

Tony was 15 and barging into Rhodey's room. His face was set in an awful sneer, his jaw rippling like he was barely chewing back a scream.

“He flunked me,” Tony said, livid, and Rhodey heard the door shut – apparently his roommate had taken that moment to escape. “Fucking _Nichols_ , that fucking asshole!” Rhodey was sitting at his desk, the book in his hand falling to the floor as he stared at the furious kid in front of him. Tony let out a rough sigh and stalked over, his hands in fists as he sat down rather hard on Rhodey's lap.

“Tony -”

“He locked the door,” he responded. “I heard the deadbolt, don't worry.”

This calmed Rhodey and he placed his hands on Tony's knees, letting him pick them up and hold them when he was finally ready for a gentle touch.

“I don't know whose idea it was to put me in an eight am class anyway,” Tony mumbled, and Rhodey was glad that his face was against Tony's back when he smiled at that.

“I knew you wouldn't go,” Rhodey said.

“It's my fault,” Tony said. “Your mom is gonna be _so_ pissed at me, I know it.”

“What about _your_ folks?”

Tony wrapped Rhodey's arms around his waist then and said nothing. Rhodey's desk was by the window so he scooted the chair harshly on the carpet, and he felt a chuckle roll around inside Tony's chest as he faced them towards the yard below, lit up bright by the moon. Tony lifted one of Rhodey's hands to his lips and kissed it, and though Rhodey sighed sadly, he didn't pull away.

“I'm 18 now, Tones -”

“Be quiet,” Tony interrupted, and he pointed out of the window with his free hand. “From here, I can see the water tower.”

“You owe my roommate an apology,” Rhodey said, and he continued at the miffed look Tony shot him over his shoulder. “You ran him out of here -”

“I didn't _tell_ him to leave,” Tony replied.

“I have no idea why I'm friends with you.”

Tony laughed and leaned back in Rhodey's embrace, and they looked out on the moonlit lawn below and beyond, all the way to the water tower across campus.

 

* * *

 

Tony was 16 and leaning back against the in-dorm sink in Rhodey's private room. Rhodey was leaned up against him, his shirt off and a towel thrown over one shoulder. Tony was shirtless, too, a towel around his shoulders as Rhodey used a beard trimmer to clean up Tony's sideburns.

“Why are you so bad at grooming yourself?” Rhodey asked. He felt Tony's fingertips tickling at his sides and he didn't try not to grin.

“I like it when you do it,” Tony said. A predictable response. “I'll brush your hair later, okay?”

“Sure,” Rhodey said, and he put down the trimmers but kept his position against Tony's chest. He used his towel to wipe away tiny bits of hair and brush off Tony's chest and neck.

“All done,” he said, and Tony reached down and took his free hand, bringing Rhodey's thumb to his mouth and running it along his bottom lip.

“Why won't you sleep with me?” Tony asked. “I'm not a virgin. Like, you won't even touch me.” He kissed the pad of Rhodey's thumb slowly, fondly. “Won't let me touch you.”

“I know,” Rhodey said, dropping the towel. “But it doesn't change the fact that I'm legal and you're not.”

“That's it?” Tony asked, his tone incredulous, and Rhodey nodded. “That's your excuse? Because I'm 16?”

“Yeah. That's my reason.”

Tony stayed quiet for a moment. “So we can do it when I'm 18?”

“Of course.” Rhodey said it lightly, like it was the easiest decision he'd ever made.

It was a rare occasion when one saw Tony Stark at a loss, but Rhodey's words made Tony's eyes widen a bit, his mouth dropping open for a moment before he closed it. He nodded then and grabbed the towel around his shoulders with both hands, his eyes studying Rhodey's face.

“Okay, dollface,” Tony said. “I guess this'll have to be enough for now.”

 

* * *

 

Tony was 17 years old and finishing up his Masters of Science when Rhodey saw him cry for the first time, and it was over something that they'd already sorted out last year.

 

“You won't fuck me!” Tony yelled, screamed across the living room of their too-big apartment at him. “Everyone else in this shithole will fuck me and _you won't_.” They'd moved off campus when Tony finished both of his B.S. degrees last year and of course the Starks put them up in the most gauche loft they could find in Cambridge. Rhodey didn't really like the place – it was too big, too hard to be heard across a room, and there were too many things to break.

“I've already told you,” Rhodey said. “You're not 18 yet.” And Tony just rolled his eyes and shook with a frustration that he usually only displayed in the workshop. “Don't tell me to stop mentioning it, because it's important. I'm heading to the Air Force after this and -”

Rhodey stopped talking when Tony came stomping across the vastness of their dumb living room, walking up to him with red-rimmed eyes. “Stop mentioning it,” Tony said, defiant.

Rhodey turned away and looked out of the window for a moment. He could feel Tony breathing, could hear it, could sense the way his lungs trembled with every contraction. Tony was his height now. Rhodey could see that he'd shaved that morning, too. “Seven months, Rhodey,” Tony said, and with that Rhodey reached out to him, pulling him into a one-armed hug. Tony wrapped both arms around Rhodey's middle and sighed along his cheek, his fists knotted in Rhodey's USAFA t-shirt.

They still kissed sometimes. They waited until the other was home before figuring out dinner, and they always consulted each other on which movies to rent. They weren't shy about peeing while the other brushed their teeth or took a shower. They had their own rooms, but sometimes Tony liked to pass out beside Rhodey while he studied in bed.

“Everyone in this town, Rhodey,” Tony said. “Feels like _everyone_ in this town has fucked me, but you won't, and I don't understand why.” Tony turned his face towards Rhodey, lips brushing his cheek now. “It's not my age, it's something else.”

The student body had finally warmed up to Tony once he got taller and leaner, and the guy seemed to be making up for lost time. Well, he wasn't outrageous about it or anything, but at least twice a week Rhodey could count on Tony stumbling in at four in the morning and going straight to the shower. At least he never brought them home.

“Is _that_ why?” Tony asked, and Rhodey genuinely did not understand the question. Tony seemed to sense this because he continued with, “Because everybody else has fucked me?” Rhodey was tempted to get offended until he caught the fear in Tony's open expression, and he realized that Tony was asking him sincerely.

“Of course not, ” Rhodey said quickly. “Why do you need me to do that? What we already have, it's...” Rhodey realized that this was the most talking they'd ever done about what they were doing. “I like what we have. And you're rude to your one-night stands – you don't stay over, you ignore them...I don't wanna be -”

“You wouldn't be,” Tony said. “You'd never be.”

Rhodey could feel himself sweating under his clothes, at every spot where his body and Tony's met. “It's what everybody does to you,” Rhodey finally said. Might as well. “ _With_ you. I don't share in that part of your life and I don't want to. I want more than that.” ( _I'm waiting because I am trying to show you that._ )

Tony's face broke then, crinkled at every edge and every corner, and only one tear made it down his cheek before he folded himself into Rhodey's embrace again. Rhodey wondered if Tony was drunk but he knew he wasn't, and he held him tight as Tony's hands groped at him, grabbing his shoulders and biceps and eventually clamping together behind his back.

“I like what we have, too,” Tony sobbed, almost inconsolable.

 

Tony continued to come home late and take showers. On some of those nights he would slip into Rhodey's room and climb under the covers and press his skin along every warm inch of Rhodey's that he could get to. And he would whisper along Rhodey's neck and his shoulders, never speaking loud enough for him to hear.

 

* * *

 

Seven months and nine days later, Tony was asleep in Rhodey's bed. Rhodey found him there when he got home from study group, already asleep. That didn't happen very often, Rhodey finding Tony in his bed, but still, it's not like Tony ever asked in the first place – he'd just remove every stitch of his clothing and climb in whether Rhodey was there or not. So Rhodey stripped and climbed in beside him, spooned right up against him and wrapped an arm around him. He fell asleep, too.

 

The sky was just starting to pale at the horizon when Rhodey woke up, now lying with his head on Tony's shoulder and a hand resting on his chest. He gave a warm rub and wasn't surprised when Tony stirred a bit – Rhodey had come in around eleven and Tony had been out like a light, probably exhausted from yelling at his new robot. Tony had been asleep for a while, it seemed, and his smile was lazy and groggy as he brought up a hand to caress Rhodey's hair.

“Study group?” Tony asked, his voice quiet and thick first thing in the morning.

“Went fine,” Rhodey said.

Tony nodded and shut his eyes again, turning his face towards the ceiling and letting his hand travel down Rhodey's shoulder. Rhodey's big hand circled Tony's stomach as he checked the clock, and then he rolled back a bit onto his side proper so that he could give Tony's cheek a warm nuzzle. Tony gusted a hot sigh and turned into the touch, now reaching across with his free hand to caress Rhodey's hair and his face, his eyes still closed and his hands moving slowly. He sank back into the pillow again, still sleepy, but Rhodey watched Tony's lips twitch as he brushed his fingers down lower, watched him arch into the touch as Rhodey's hand finally dipped below the bedsheets. Rhodey found him naked and hard already, thicker when aroused and gently curving toward his stomach. Rhodey peeked down to see the way Tony's cock tented out the sheets, the movement of his hand hidden by them. He looked back up and Tony's eyes were still closed, his lips still touched by the faintest and most heavenly grin.

Rhodey let his hand slip lower and he watched Tony's eyes dart around behind his eyelids when he ran a hand far back, letting his middle finger dip below Tony's balls and between his buttocks. He ran his finger dry across Tony's hole and watched the man keen up off of the bed a bit, his mouth dropping open and his legs spreading. Rhodey did it again and Tony slipped a leg between Rhodey's and bent the other at the knee before letting it fall back, presenting himself to Rhodey, giving himself over to this.

Rhodey leaned away and reached for the spot beneath his bedside table where he kept his lube, and when he rolled back over Tony was still lying there, eyes closed and his stomach fluttering a bit, but he was still silent. Rhodey wet his fingers quickly and scooted close to Tony, who still had a leg between Rhodey's knees, and he eased his hand back while kissing Tony, his fingers searching and finding and gently swirling as Tony bit his lip. Rhodey eased a fingertip inside and Tony barely reacted, just grinned into their kiss – okay, so they'd both done this before, no big deal, but that's not what this was about. Rhodey worked his finger in and out and eventually Tony's grin faded, his head falling back languidly onto the pillow when Rhodey curled his finger just _so_. He added another finger and Tony moaned out loud finally, and then he went to speak but didn't – just smiled and breathed, and Rhodey thought that he could love Tony this way. Sleepy and prone, grinning and happy to be touched.

Rhodey removed his finger and slicked up his own cock, throbbing already, and he took Tony's thigh in one hand while moving up onto his elbow. Tony was moving onto his side a bit while reaching between them for Rhodey's cock, lining them up, probably still too sleepy to ramble on and on like Rhodey always thought he would when this finally happened. He was just panting quietly, his eyes barely open, and now his breath was forming the word, “ _Oh_ ,” when he felt Rhodey against him, pressing and then pushing and then easing inside so gently, and Tony fell back onto the pillow again with Rhodey leaned up on one elbow and still sliding forward, not stopping until they were hip to hip.

Tony panted and held Rhodey's hip as they found a rhythm, his grip weak and his eyes blinking lazily with the weight of sleep. Rhodey lifted Tony's leg a bit higher, moving faster, and the look on Tony's face made his stomach tremble, made him feel weak with the fact that he could affect him this way.

“Jesus, Rhodey,” Tony breathed, his tone more reverent than sultry, and no one had ever called Rhodey's name out in bed before – well, not _that_ name, and it made all the blood rush down, his hips snapping now at Tony and his cock pulsing, undoubtedly leaking already. He dropped Tony's leg and spooned their bodies together, his hand on Tony's hip and Tony's head on the pillow now, his face tilted upwards and his mouth open in a long moan as Rhodey thrust at him. Rhodey moved onto his knees between Tony's legs and hooked a hand around the back of each thigh, and finally Tony's eyes opened fully when Rhodey pulled his hips up into his lap, sheathing himself in one smooth stroke that made them both moan out loud.

Tony reached down and grabbed Rhodey's thighs, hooking his own hands over them and meeting every one of Rhodey's thrusts with one of his own. Rhodey's head was swimming but he tried to play it off, tried to act like he was just giving Tony what he wanted but this was about much more than that now. They'd both waited four years and what they had already had always been enough, but now Rhodey was leaning forward onto his elbows and kissing Tony, sloppy and rough from the rhythm of their sex, and when Tony bit his lip and smiled, hips pushing back almost in defiance, Rhodey knew that he loved Tony this way.

And then Tony's eyes drifted shut again and his grip on the back of Rhodey's thighs faltered, and Rhodey slid an arm under Tony and held him close, didn't let him fall away. “Oh fuck,” Tony warbled, his legs tightening at Rhodey's waist, his head rolling back languidly. Tony was tense but loose in his arms, his joints locked in position but his expression dreamy and light, and he was squeezing around Rhodey now, possibly trying to control his own orgasm, but it made Rhodey's face hot and pinched with lust. Tony was smooth and slick around him, tight but not like a virgin, and Tony's lips were whispering something too low for Rhodey to hear.

“Tony,” Rhodey breathed, and he ignored how shaky his voice was. “Fuck, I'm gonna come...”

“Please,” Tony replied, his own voice almost in pieces.

“We forgot a rubber,” Rhodey moaned, squeezing his eyes shut, resisting. It was the eighties, they were supposed to be worried about that kind of stuff. But it was as if this news spurred Tony on because he anchored his feet behind Rhodey's thighs then, thrusting up at him with moans that sounded almost pained.

“Please,” he said again, and now he reached up and wrapped his arms around Rhodey's neck, gripping him as if Rhodey was the only thing keeping him from floating right off of the earth. “I'll come if you come. _Jesus_ , Rhodey, please.”

Tony kissed him and Rhodey came, his lips trembling and worthless against Tony's, his body vibrating like the whole room was shaking. Tony's thighs tightened around his hips and his head fell back, his moan sounding like a broken thing tumbling off of his lips, and Rhodey kissed his exposed neck as it flushed deep red against his lips and wet heat exploded between their bodies. Rhodey gave a gasp and went limp, lying ragged on top of Tony as his breath gusted, his face in the crook of Tony's neck.

“What was _that_ for?” Tony asked, barely able to speak around huge gusts of breath.

Rhodey turned and spoke into Tony's cheek. “Got any plans for your birthday?” he asked. “There's still a party here tonight, right?”

Tony paused before a bright peal of laughter erupted from him, bouncing off every corner of Rhodey's bedroom. He hugged Rhodey and patted his shoulders, shaking his head.

“Shit,” Tony chuckled, “almost forgot.”

“Really? I thought that's why you were in my bed.”

Tony shook his head gently. “No,” he replied, and turned his face toward Rhodey's a bit more. “I was just waiting for you to get home.”

 

Tony was 18 and kissing Rhodey, holding his hand and calling him “dollface,” telling him over and over again that he was lovely.

 

* * *

 

Tony was 19 and receiving his doctorate in Aerospace Engineering. He'd have one in Robotics at the end of the summer session as well. Rhodey was 22 and finishing his Bachelor's in Aerospace Engineering, too, like a normal person.

“There's nothing normal about you,” Tony said, and he fixed all of Rhodey's honors cords for him. Tony looked like a clown, he was so decorated in sashes and hoods and cords. “You are truly unique.”

 

*

 

Tony was 19 and he hadn't been sober for 48 hours. Rhodey took the Stark's private jet to Malibu that morning and found Tony in his garage, sitting in one of his cars and saying nothing. He'd expected Tony to drink, but he'd also expected him to pass out at some point, too. Obie was handling all of the funeral arrangements and having Tony's speech written. The service was scheduled for tomorrow morning. In the mean time Tony was maintaining a steady buzz and not sleeping. Rhodey picked up both of their suits from the cleaners and accepted all of the flowers, food, and gifts of condolences on Tony's behalf. It was well known that he was Tony's best friend by now. Tony didn't have anyone else. This was almost expected of Rhodey.

Rhodey hung their suits in Tony's closet and made two sandwiches from the cold cut trays that the domestic staff had provided. He plated them and walked downstairs to find Tony still sitting in his favorite hot rod. Rhodey walked up and saw a photo album sitting on the passenger seat, but it wasn't open. Rhodey walked around to the driver's side then and Tony finally looked up at him with eyes that were big and red and almost trembling.

“There's a sandwich for you upstairs,” Rhodey said. “I'm taking a nap. Join me, you need to rest.”

Rhodey offered his hand and Tony took it, and they went upstairs and ate in Tony's bedroom, the television muted, and Rhodey gave Tony a shave. They showered after and Tony brushed Rhodey's hair while they watched _How It's Made_. Tony brushed until deep waves formed in Rhodey's hair, occasionally mumbling about the factory robots on television. They went to bed then and Tony sat up for a long while, his feet on the floor and his back to Rhodey.

“I told them about us,” Tony said, and Rhodey thought he felt his heart stop. “Mom didn't care – she liked you, actually, but Howard...he thought it would be a bad look for the company.”

Rhodey didn't know if that was because he was in the military or because he was Black or because he was male, and he didn't really want to know. So he reached out and ran a hand down Tony's back, and Tony turned around then, his lips tilted in a sad grin. But when he laid down and rolled into Rhodey, his touch desperate and his lips almost angry, Rhodey thought of swimming in stormy weather, diving in and being enveloped, tossed around like a leaf in the wind.

 

* * *

 

Tony was 21 and bribing officials in the Air Force to station Rhodey at Edwards, a few hours from Tony's place in Malibu.

“Do you have _any_ idea how that looks?” Rhodey asked harshly while somehow still keeping his voice low. They were at his mom's house in Philly for Thanksgiving. “If anybody finds out about that, or about -”

“They won't,” Tony said, taking a step closer and removing his sunglasses. “Neither one, puppy. Cross my heart.” Tony reached out and wrapped his hand around Rhodey's tie, and Rhodey couldn't help but cast a glance at the door. His mom knew, but the rest of his family didn't. “I want you to stay close.” Tony leaned up on his toes and pressed a light kiss onto Rhodey's lips. “California's _nice_. Trust me.”

 

* * *

 

Tony was 34 and telling Rhodey something that he knew was true, but Rhodey couldn't help giving him a hard time about it anyway.

“Seriously, _no one_ else,” he said, drowning out the Eagles game below, and he shook his head at Rhodey's breathless laugh. “Not since I was 17, I swear. The minute I turned 18, it was all over.”

Rhodey took a swig of his beer and looked down at the football field below. His team was getting _stomped_. He glanced around their private box, his eyes sweeping over Pepper on her laptop and Happy cheering the Eagles on, despite it all. It took him another moment or two to realize that he and Tony were holding hands.

 

* * *

 

Tony was 35 and he was on the cover of US Weekly for breaking the heart of yet another young model. The relationship had only lasted a week and he'd taken her all over the world. He never slept with her. It had gone the way all of his trysts went: he kissed them and slept in the same bed with them but left it to his drinking to explain away the fact that he didn't try to fuck them. Tony had a reputation as a playboy and that worked to their advantage because that meant that he never had to spend time with any of them for long, and he could always just pretend to be distracted by another woman and slip away, going home alone. There wasn't much on the line for Tony but there was for Rhodey, and Tony understood that. Still, he managed not to fuck any of these women, and even Rhodey was impressed by that.

 

Rhodey was 38 and an Air Force major, as well as the official military liaison to Stark Industries. He was up for Lieutenant Colonel in six months. He'd bought a house in Calabasas, which was over two hours from Edwards but only 35 minutes from Malibu. Tony kept boar bristle hair brushes and bergamot oil pomade at his place, and Rhodey had quite an impressive Scotch selection at his own house. Tony still had that bot he'd made back at MIT and he called him Dummy, and there was another now, named You. They were always breaking or needing recalibrating or updating, and Rhodey spent most weekends helping Tony fix them. Sometimes they joked that the damned things were their sons.

 

* * *

 

Tony was 37 and was showing Rhodey the coolest thing ever.

“I call it repulsor technology,” Tony said, and they smiled through the shatterproof barrier as they watched the demonstration. “It's gonna be the new thing in propulsion, I'm tellin' ya. Gonna put 'em in those Jerichos.”

Suddenly there was a white-hot explosion and everyone ducked down, even though the barrier protected them from the shards of missile flying about. The scientists surrounding them were cursing and typing away on tablets and consoles, but Tony and Rhodey were laughing, their hands on each other's shoulders.

 

* * *

 

Tony was 38 and Rhodey was 41 when he cried in front of him for the first time. Tony kept his right arm tucked into his abdomen while his left was still flung around Rhodey's shoulders, and Rhodey could smell motor oil and sweat on him as everyone filed out of the tiny infirmary. Sand fell off of Tony even when he stood still – there was so much of it, and he was dirty and smelly and he needed a shave, and what the fuck was glowing in his _chest_?

The door clicked shut behind the last nurse and Rhodey took Tony's face in his hands. He had been in the desert for three months, searching for three months, didn't know if Tony was alive for _three fucking months_. For three months he saw explosions behind his eyelids, heard Tony scream his name over artillery fire before a huge white flash knocked him out cold. And then he woke up and couldn't find Tony _anywhere_.

He wanted to call Tony a dumb son of a bitch or demand that he never do that again, but he couldn't say anything, could only count the cuts and scrapes on Tony's face and watch everything go wavy and watery in his vision as his eyes welled with tears. He just felt Tony's face in his hands and stared right into that beautiful fucking thing for the first time in ninety days. He felt Tony's hand on his back, pulling them closer, chest to chest and nose to nose.

“I thought you were dead,” Tony breathed, his voice a ragged whisper.

 

* * *

 

Tony was 40 years old and they were both in suits of armor. It was their 22nd anniversary and Tony was punching Rhodey in the fucking face.

Rhodey took off after they blew up the living room. And he was keeping the fucking suit, too.

 

They didn't speak for weeks, not until after they'd both been thoroughly punished by an angry Russian and his team of robots. They were in a hotel suite in Manhattan and Tony was whispering, “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry,” along Rhodey's neck, into his collarbone and down his chest. “I love you,” mumbled quietly into his navel and along his hip and into the dark thicket of his pubic hair.

“Love you, too,” Rhodey gasped, keening up off of the bed at Tony's touch, his hand in Tony's hair. “S'okay...”

 

*

 

Pepper was looking over them both, and then looking at the contract in front of her. She tsked and shook her head, scooting the sheet of paper away from her.

“We don't need to sign anything, guys,” she said casually. “I trust you – just guarantee my bonus and _promise me_ that I don't have to, you know, full-on make out with Tony in public or anything.” Rhodey laughed and Tony was shaking his head, his hand squeezing Rhodey's beneath the table. “I'm glad to help however I can.”

 

*

 

Tony was sitting on the edge of his bed and Rhodey was on the floor in front of him, his back to him. Tony was brushing his hair, sweeping the boar bristles forward to a rhythm he'd established back in college. Pepper had come over for dinner and left about an hour ago, and now Tony was brushing Rhodey's hair and watching television, speaking occasionally but mostly staying quiet.

They had Pepper now, a person who'd always known about them and that the press suspected Tony was involved with anyway. There would be no more models or actresses to entertain. Rhodey had been worried that Pepper would find the whole thing undignified for a young professional such as herself, but she went along with it. She really did want to help. Rhodey felt good.

“There it goes,” Tony said triumphantly, and Rhodey knew that gentle waves were showing up as his hair flattened down to his scalp, the curls lying down together. Tony loved brushing his hair, had loved it since the first time Rhodey had let him.

 

* * *

 

Tony was 41 and Rhodey was being awakened by a phone call. He looked out of the window of his temporary quarters on base and squinted as he picked up his phone.

“Tony,” he practically moaned into the phone, “it's like seven and it's my only day off, I would _love_ to just sleep in, you know -”

“You haven't seen the news yet, have you?”

Rhodey picked up his tablet off of the bedside table and went to the Huffington Post. The pictures were all in technicolor today, all rainbows and red-white-and-blue.

“Pepper and I are gonna split up,” Tony said. “I don't expect you to admit to anything publicly, but I'm not gonna pretend anymore. You weren't my first, Rhodey, but you're definitely going to be my last.”

Don't Ask, Don't Tell had been repealed. It was no longer considered a dischargeable offense to be openly gay in the US military.

“Wow,” was all Rhodey could say.

“Wow is right,” Tony said. “I'm coming up there, okay? Go back to sleep – I'll be there by lunch and we'll celebrate.” Rhodey groaned. “Privately. Discreetly. I promise, dollface.”

 

An hour later, Rhodey felt someone slide into his bed and he just shook his head. It was only one person, and his suspicions were confirmed when he felt the warm metal of the arc reactor against his back and Tony's arms wrapping around him. He wouldn't even bother asking how Tony got in the room.

“You were driving the whole time,” Rhodey said. Tony didn't say anything back, just curled in closer and kissed the nape of Rhodey's neck.

They woke up at two in the afternoon and had lunch out in town, then went on a drive out into the desert, where they stopped the car to walk around and take pictures, hold hands and talk and sit in the sun together.

 

* * *

 

Tony was 42 and collapsing onto Rhodey's chest, and Rhodey gave him a warm pat and he breathed deeply. The air was full of dust and Tony's brand new tower was crumbling all around them. Rhodey was surprised the bed even survived the battle. Tony hadn't explained the giant holes in the living room floor when he came in, but they were the least of it. Rhodey had seen the whole thing on the news. He made it to New York in three hours, and he'd been standing at the front door of the tower when Tony got back from what seemed to have been a shawarma date with a bunch of superheroes.

“When were you gonna tell me we found Steve Rogers?” Rhodey asked, still huffing a bit.

Tony snickered. “I was stuck on that stupid helicarrier,” he explained, out of breath as well. “Couldn't call you.” Tony turned and pressed his nose into Rhodey's chest, breathing him in as if he could make the air clean again. “He's actually kind of a dick. You didn't miss much.”

He remembered watching Tony on the news, holding a nuke and disappearing into a hole in the sky.

“I swear,” Rhodey said, “if you keep almost dying, I'm going to almost kill you myself.”

Tony breathed a laugh and Rhodey continued to rub his back, his legs still wrapped around him.

 

*

 

Tony was 42 and driving up to Rhodey's house with their boys on a small trailer hitched to his Audi. Rhodey helped him unload the bots and move them into his workshop, which Tony had already decided would need to be expanded considerably if he was going to be staying there for a while. Probably a long while, Rhodey realized, as rebuilding Tony's cliffside mansion was going to be a two-year project that was going to cost about $46 million, but two years was nothing compared to the 25 they already had between them. (It was 29, really.)

They worked on the bots together late into the night. Neither one of them was willing to stop until they at least got them both back online and responding to voice commands, and right when the sun rose, Rhodey said, “You,” and the bot responded with a slight twist and a mechanical chirp. He looked up into Tony's wide eyes and then they both looked at their other robot, and Tony said loudly, “Hey, Dummy,” which caused a sharp reaction – Dummy turned its robotic hand sharply and flexed his pincers.

Dummy's arm followed Tony's movements as he walked around to hug Rhodey tight, laughing triumphantly and pounding on his back. Rhodey kissed him and hugged him, both of their smiles electric. “The kids are gonna be alright,” he said lightly, and Tony nodded. “Let's get breakfast and crash out – I'm exhausted.”

 

“I'll be 43 this year,” Tony said as he cut into his lasagna. Lasagna for breakfast was strange but Tony was an adult, he insisted – he could eat whatever he wanted for breakfast (which prompted Rhodey to immediately crack open beers for them). “What do you wanna do?”

“The usual,” Rhodey said around his own breakfast of steak and eggs. “Party, Paris, poker, et cetera...”

“No, no,” Tony said lightly, shaking his head, “we gotta come up with something _awesome_ for our 25 th, man. Something _way_ better than Party-Paris-Poker. We should do one of those parabolic flights, huh? I mean we fly all the time, but...let's go be weightless.”

Rhodey thought for only a second, then grinned guiltily. Tony wasn't talking about his birthday – he was talking about their anniversary. Rhodey scolded himself inwardly. He should have already had something in mind. “Weightless,” he said, and he picked up his drink. “I like it – it's better than flying. Let's float right off of the earth together.”

“Well it's gonna be our silver anniversary,” Tony said around a mouthful of lasagna, and Rhodey just laughed into his beer. “No, that's what my mom called it. She said 25 years is a silver anniversary. That's a big one, you gotta do something over the top.”

Still laughing, Rhodey leaned over and pressed his wet lips to Tony's greasy ones, and though Tony kissed him back he immediately gave a revolted whine and began pawing at his face afterward. “Happy anniversary,” Rhodey said, and Tony broke into laughter, loud and echoing around his living room, and soon Rhodey was wiping his mouth and laughing, too. Tony climbed into his lap then and took him gently by the wrists, holding them to his sides and pressing another greasy kiss onto his lips. Rhodey laughed gently at the taste of heirloom tomatoes and basil and hot peppers, at how this should have been gross but it wasn't at all. “Happy anniversary,” Tony mumbled and Rhodey kissed him again, not laughing anymore, and he turned and swung his legs up onto the couch and lay back, bringing Tony down with him, and then _up, up, up,_ right off of the earth together.

**Author's Note:**

> This story diverges from the MCU canon that Tony Stark was a bicycle before he got involved with Pepper. Tony/Rhodey is my current OTP and I just couldn't get the thought out of my mind... 'What if Tony wasn't some huge slut? What if he only made it _look like_ he was a slut when he'd actually been dating the same person since college? What if he really _was_ that fucking boring and sentimental and normal? What if he was one of those dorks that was still dating his childhood sweetheart?'


End file.
